


Gotham Drabbles

by genmitsu



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Drabble, M/M, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Profanity, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-02-06 16:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu
Summary: Just short drabbles for Gobblepot





	1. The last honest cop of Gotham

Jim Gordon has beautiful eyes and his smile is a shard of sunshine. Jim Gordon has firm hands that care little for tenderness. He is painfully blunt, uncorteous, and stubborn like hell. Jim Gordon is the last honest cop of Gotham.

Oswald Cobblepot has a pathetic look to him, laughable even, and no one would call him beautiful. Oswald Cobblepot has a soft touch and a softer voice. He has impeccable manners. He seems servile and maybe he is. He bends and turns like a reed, but his fixation on his ultimate goal is stronger than vice.

“I need your help.”

“Jim, my old friend. It’s not my place to comment on your doing your job but it seems like I am your first stop for everything and not the last. Not that I’m complaining in any way, my friend.”

Jim thins his lips before giving out a smile.

“I’ll owe you.”

Jim Gordon is the last honest cop of Gotham. Only these two still have unshakeable belief in the fact.


	2. Power Couple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald and Jim have always been a complement to each other, two sides of the same coin. Opposites, but indispensable to one another.

They have always been a complement to each other, two sides of the same coin. Opposites, but indispensable to one another. Oswald, a strategist, with broader picture in mind. Jim, a tactician, with a hands-on approach.Oswald, silver-tongued and elusive like water or air, always a mask, a mirror, a mist. Jim, blunt and straightforward, a solid presence to ground the other, an anchor of sorts. Oswald, impulsive. Jim, more rational. Oswald, proud to a fault. Jim, willing to bend to an extent. Oswald, a criminal, always outside the box. Jim, a cop, trying to play by the rules. Both ambitious. Both practical. Both of them making up the ultimate power couple in Gotham.

It’s thanks to Jim that the petty crimes’ rate goes lower, for he has trained and instructed the patrols to look for specific signs. It’s thanks to Oswald though that the violent crimes follow, for he has made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate other criminals encroaching on Jim’s free time.  
It’s Oswald who can bring in the crowd and convince even the stingiest moneybags to open up their wallets, and it’s Jim who reminds them that it is for Gotham.  
It’s Oswald who makes other crime families swear fealty to himself, uniting the organized crime in the city. It’s Jim who makes sure they don’t overstep and take too much of Oswald’s free time.

Because their free time coincides and during that time they sit together and discuss their day over dinner. Or Jim lounges around, resting, while Oswald pores over financials. Or Oswald reading aloud from a book Jim has no time to read while Jim cleans out their guns.  
Most of the times though they move in unison, moaning each other’s name, mouthing at the skin, kissing hard, leaving scratches on each other, claiming the other as their own.

No one would dare to try and cross the king of Gotham or take his lover. No one would dare to try and attract attention of Gotham’s police commissioner or take his lover.  
They’re not above flaunting that from time to time.  
If it takes a few love bites on Oswald’s neck, just slightly visible over his collar, to make Gotham a safer place, Jim is only too glad to oblige.  
If it takes a few chafed marks on Jim’s wrists, just peeking out from his sleeves, to make Gotham a place of order, Oswald is quite happy to indulge.  
After all, their union is a perfect balance.


	3. Confessional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's on a stakeout in a confessional booth but the criminal who walks in is not the one he was waiting for.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

Jim cannot believe his ears. This was not the voice of the suspect he was waiting for but he wouldn’t mistake this timbre in a thousand of others. It’s almost as good. He’s been too shocked to reply but the person on the other side doesn’t seem to mind.

“I don’t even know what I am doing here. I’m not a religious person, and have committed many sins. But I do not seek forgiveness for those, Father. I seek… guidance.”

This won’t be enough for a conviction then, but he’d be an idiot to pass up such golden opportunity for intel on the King of Gotham. So Jim puts a handkerchief over his mouth and tries to soften his usual growls. 

“What worries you then, my son?”

“I am… consumed by passion, Father. So much that it interferes with my everyday life. I’ve noticed myself making poor judgement and my position doesn’t allow for that.”

Jim raises his eyebrows. Passion? This will be good, oh yes. Because when you know what makes a person tick, well.

“What is the nature of your passion, my son?”

“I…” 

The silence is so long that Jim almost wants to urge him to speak, but refrains, fearing that the more he talks, the more chances for him to be recognized.

“...I desire another man. But don’t think I desire him in purely physical sense, that I could have weathered somehow… It goes so much deeper than that.”

A rush of emotions and half-formed thoughts overwhelms Jim. It’s not surprising to learn that Oswald likes a man, after all, he’s had an obvious crush on Jim for quite some time - but when did it stop? And who was this other man, the one who incited these feelings in Oswald? Some gangster? Why’s he not doing anything about it then, why’s he restraining himself to the point of going to a confessional, atheist as he is? And why, oh why does it sting like jealousy in Jim’s chest?

“I desire the strength of his soul and covet the honesty of it. I want to own the honour of his heart, unbowed even against terrible odds. I lust after his pride, his tenacity, his courage and his loyalty.”

Oswald’s voice rings clear in Jim’s ears, gaining strength and fervour, drowning out everything else.

“I even love his idea of justice, and would he get a laugh out of it if he knew. Oh, how many times I tried to taint him and bring him to my side, only to be resisted! It only made me want him more, fool that I am. I tried to distance myself from him, but… it doesn’t help. Doesn’t help at all, Father.”

Jim clears his throat, but his words still come out constricted and tense.

“Did you try telling this man about your feelings for him, my son? Usually it helps to get this out in the open.”

“Oh, Father, I wish! But what would it be like? We’re opposites, after all, he made it perfectly clear. So what can I do? Just go, ‘Oh Jim, I love you’? It will never be,” and Oswald lets out a laugh that’s more like a sob. “A policeman and a criminal… what a farce.”

Jim sits dumbfounded. Did he hear that right? Did he hear that  _ right _ ? He suddenly remembers that there are only two other Jims on the force and no way is Oswald talking about Hoult or Stephens. Is there?

And with such… passion, indeed.

“My son, you must never despair.” What the hell is he saying? “Our Lord works in mysterious ways,” No, seriously, what the hell is he saying? Jim cringes but he can’t stop the clichés from coming. “And even if you may think all hope is lost, it is always darkest before the dawn.” Jim just buries his face in his hands. He’s too shaken by Oswald’s words, his reaction is all wrong - he’s blushing to his ears, for fuck’s sake!

“Thank you… Father. I shall consider your advice.” There’s rustling coming from the other side of the booth, Oswald’s standing up. “Good day to you.”

 

Oswald walks out of the confessional with a smirk on his face. It was totally worth spending money for laying the false trails for the GCPD and getting Jim the stakeout. The ball’s in his court now. Let’s see how it plays out.


	4. In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald calls in a favour for his help. A very personal favour indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure self-indulgence, no excuse for that. I hope you enjoy the ride XD

It all began with a favour, like always. The case was pressing, a vicious criminal kidnapped a child, and time was running out. So Jim went to Oswald to ask for help. Only this time Oswald looked at him, contemplating, and said, “Alright. But I will need a favour in return.”

“Whatever you ask,” Jim replied, relief washing over him. He knew Oswald would come through.

“Are you sure, Jim?” he asked with an impish grin.

“Yes, yes, whatever!”

And then Oswald handed him a thick padded envelope. “When you’re done and you’re home alone, call me. But don’t open it until then.”

And Jim just stuffed the envelope in his pocket and went to apprehend the criminal and retrieve the child, the glorious GCPD saved the day and whatnot, and he completely forgot about it.

But now he’s home, taking off his jacket, and the envelope falls out of the pocket and Jim remembers.

Just what was Oswald planning when he gave him this… something? Usually Jim would be wary of it, but Oswald came through splendidly, they wouldn’t have been in time without his help and insight, and so Jim decides to follow through on his promise to the letter. He dials the number. Oswald picks up on the second ring.

“Good evening, James.”

“Hi, Oswald. Wanted to thank you for your help. We couldn’t have done it without you,” Jim says with sincerity.

“Always glad to perform my civic duty, James,” he chuckles on the other end, warmly. “Now… do you have the envelope?”

“I do.”

“And you will do whatever I ask, as you promised?” There’s something different in Oswald’s voice now, something with an edge.

“I will,” Jim replies, suddenly very apprehensive. He probably shouldn’t have promised that. But a child’s life was at stake, was he supposed to be picky? “I will.”

“Good. Put the phone on speaker and open the envelope.”

Jim complies. The padding on the envelope prevented him from making out the contents, and he’s completely taken aback when what rolls out of it is a small bottle and…

“What is this?”, he says, incredulous.

“That, James, is a butt plug.”

Jim stares at it. It’s something definitely high-end, with sleek lines, and pleasant to the touch. It doesn’t look very big, but its middle flares up dramatically compared to the tip.

“Why?..”

“Oh, Jim. You should know why,” Oswald’s voice is raw silk and no phone interference can mask that. “Now… I want you to put it in.”

“Uh…” is Jim’s clever reply.

“Don’t worry, it’s brand new and squeaky clean. I even provided the lubricant, decided not to leave something as important as that to chance,” Oswald continues, in the same tone. “All for your pleasure, James. Do you want me to guide you through this?”

Jim can’t deny that he thought about something like this sometimes. After all, the things you see and do in the army leave you open to possibilities. He never tried anything as invasive as that though, but… but…

“Yes,” he says, his throat suddenly dry.

Oswald chuckles lightly. “I’m glad you said that, James. So… please take off your trousers and underwear, and lie down comfortably.”

A rush of heat washes over Jim. Is it really happening? Is he really doing that? Turns out he is, as he strips out of his clothes in a hurry, like a teenager, and lies down on the couch, placing the phone closer.

“I think you should start with your finger first, James. It could be uncomfortable otherwise.”

Jim unscrews the lube bottle and slicks his fingers. He’s already half-hard, how embarrassing is that?

“Now… try probing your entrance, James.”

Oswald’s voice is cool and enthralling like a dancing cobra, and Jim couldn’t disobey him if he wanted to. But he doesn’t, and so he reaches down and presses his finger to his opening, the sensation so weird he can’t even say if it’s pleasant or not.

“Yes, it is strange at first, James…” Oswald continues, softly, gently, implacably. “But press it in, lightly… give yourself time to adjust… And then, James, press it in further. Stretch yourself, Jim. Stretch yourself for me.”

It’s sudden and uncontrollable, the moan that escapes Jim’s mouth at these words. Why should he be so aroused by something like this anyway? Why is Oswald’s voice so honeyed and seductive and Jim  _ wants _ him to continue with these lewd instructions? It shouldn’t be that sexy at all, but Jim is so turned on he barely registers the weirdness of the whole affair. Jim works himself, his finger disappearing inside completely, his walls squeezing it hard, so hard, his cock is fully erect and throbbing.

“James… put the plug in.”

Jim shudders, taking the finger out. He feels weak and open, and his hands are trembling as he takes the plug in his hand and applies lube.

“Jim?”

“Y-yeah?” He replies, his voice so husky and  _ wanting _ .

“Talk to me, Jim. Tell me what you’re doing.”

Oswald also sounds huskier, needier. Jim smirks. Two can play this game.

“I’m putting it in, Oswald,” he says, pressing the tip of the plug to his entrance. He can’t control himself and the words come out hoarse and breathy even to his ears. “The tip gets in easy… but it’s hard… to put it all in.”

“Try to relax your muscles, Jim… and press it harder.”

Jim complies, moans escaping him, the plug slipping in slowly, so slowly. He feels hot all over.

“Yes, Jim, that’s the way. Just a little bit further now…”

And oh, and it’s in, slipping past the resistance at last and fitting inside so snugly, and it’s a little bit uncomfortable, but at the same time so good. So good.

“Oswald…” he says, barely louder than a whisper. “It fills me up, Oswald.”

There’s a broken gasp on the other end of the line.

“Yes, Jim. It should.” Even like this Oswald’s voice is molten honey. “Now, Jim, my dear… I want you to touch yourself.”

Jim never thought that he would be that eager to obey Oswald’s requests, ever, but it feels so right. This pressure inside him is making everything they do so right.

“I am,” he speaks, stroking his cock and immediately feeling himself clench up around the plug. It’s so intense Jim fears he’ll come just from it alone. “It feels so big inside me, Oswald.”

Oswald inhales sharply and doesn’t speak for a while. The only sounds breaking the silence are Jim’s moans as he continues to slide his hand up and down his cock. It’s nothing like he had before, and it’s just teetering on the edge of pure bliss, except that something’s missing.

“Oswald?” Jim gasps through the haze of sensations.

“Yes, Jim?”

Not so controlled, not so imperative anymore, and it’s almost, almost perfect, but…

“I wish it was you,” Jim blurts out, and means it. Just the thought of Oswald doing this to him makes him pick up the pace, pump his cock in earnest, the plug inside intensifying even the merest of movements.

“I wish it was you, Oswald,” he gasps and moans, almost whimpering.

“Come for me now, Jim, dear.”

And as if that was the only thing keeping Jim from climaxing, he tips over the edge, spilling on his stomach, low groan in his throat that sounds too much like Oswald’s name. He lays there, sated, the firmness inside him so pleasant, the sounds on the other end of the line making him smug and hot all over again.

“Oswald?”

“I’m here, Jim,” and he sounds so deliciously wrecked. All because of Jim.

“I meant what I said before.”

A short silence follows, and then…

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, Jim.”

So fast, and yet so long.

“Oh, and Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t take it out.”

Jim wouldn’t dream of it.


	5. Stone Age Shaman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this is crack, pure crack, a bit of idiotic fun.  
> The Cavemen AU.  
> Enjoy XD

 

“Hey, Harvey…”

“What?”

“Why do shamans have no mate?”

“Why, he asks. You know why. They can’t.”

“Can’t?”

“Jim, are you trying to pull my leg? You know it perfectly too.”

“I uuhhh… forgot. You remember me crashing into that tree during the hunt? Well…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Honest.”

“Okay then. If the shaman wastes his energy fucking, there won’t be anything left for his shaman stuff. The weather will suck. The hunt will suck. And who’d want that?”

“What, that’s all?”

“As if it’s not enough.”

“It’s not. Because… we could do it after the hunt. When we have breaks between them. So he could rest, get his energy back.”

“Jim, just forget about it.”

“Can’t. He’s so…”

“So what? Why do you like him anyway?”

“You say as if you never saw him! He’s beautiful, so lithe, so thin. He smells nice. Remember when he charmed that storm, oh!.. And his eyes…”

“Eyes, my ass. Can’t you be content with women? Why do you want a shaman? What the fuck is wrong with you, Jim, you have half our tribe mooning over you and you want something you can’t fuck.”

“I’ve already figured out how I can!”

“Simmer down, you fucking genius! People don’t fuck shamans, they just don’t! What if you touch him and he makes you fall sick? Or poisons you? Or curses you? Why do you want that?”

“That’s only if you fuck him badly. I will fuck him good, so good! He’ll like it! Just you see!”

“Jim, wait!.. What the fuck…”

 

***

 

“Harvey?”

“What do you want now? To fuck a god or something?”

“Well…”

“That is not a suggestion.”

“Nah, it’s not that. It’s just… well, what if it wasn’t you who fucked the shaman, but the other way? That should work out, right?”

“Jim, would you fuck off? You got into that mess yourself, you can get out too.”

 

***

 

“Oswald… oh… Yes, more, please!..”

“As you wish…”

“Oh yes, like that…”

“How about this?”

“Oooh…”

“You’re so sweet, Jim. So sweet and gentle. As if you’re not from here at all…”

“Oswald, you too… You’re like a dream.”

“So romantic…”

“Mm… Oswald? What’s that light?”

“Right! There’s no time to explain, so stay close to me and don’t fret. It’s going to be fine.”

 

***

 

“Cobblepot! Shit, we had no idea where to search for you, I mean, _when,_ not until you’ve accessed the weather conditions!.. Uh… who’s that?”

“That’s… he’s with me. I couldn’t leave him there.”

“But… but the space-time continuum! This is unthinkable! We have to send him back this instant!”

“Just you try.”

“Hey, wait.”

“Jim?”

“The space-time continuum should be fine. I’m from this time as well.”

“Jim, you know what the space-time continuum is?”

“Oswald, are you kidding me? Tell ‘em to scan me!”

“Uh… yes, if you please?”

“Whoa… This… this is James Gordon! He’s disappeared three years ago during a temporal anomaly! Whoa, of all…”

“There, see? So, Oswald and I have to skedaddle. We have some… things to continue.”

“But first, shower. Please.”

“Oh hell yes.”

 

 


	6. On the Subject of Tails...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cracky drabble born out of a discussion with a friend - "so what if humans had tails?"  
> Hope you get a chuckle out of this one XD

 

Tails. So, tails, right?

Tails are, well… it’s gotta be accepted. There are tails in Gotham. No one can really recall now when they’d appeared first and who of the Gotham rogues was responsible for that, but the facts were these - Gothamites now sport tails and no one was even surprised by that.

At first they’ve tried to somehow conceal or hide them, but try hiding a tail that’s two feet long and fluffy like a cat’s, for instance. So the tails became something to pride yourself in, they got cared for, decorated, all that silly stuff people do for showing off. And there couldn’t be a worse offense than to step on someone’s tail or otherwise harm it, they had to add another article that dealt with punishment for hurting that new extremity.

Jim didn’t pay a lot of attention to his own, pretty mediocre tail. It wasn’t particularly long or short, sort of like a golden retriever’s… anyway, just a regular old tail, who cares about that. It did give him away more often than not, what with Jim’s short temper and problems with authority, and now the tail added more fuel to the fire with his angry whipping at the sides when Jim had to deal with some snooty higher-up or an entitled asshole. And yeah, it was kinda strange, but people paid more attention to other people’s butts and their tails’ behaviour. Jim wasn’t an exception.

That was the reason he noticed Oswald had no tail whatsoever.

Well, he had one. He had to have one, after all, everyone did. But Oswald certainly wasn’t a slave to fashion and didn’t rush to make his opinions known through his tail, so he had to have concealed it somehow. Surely. But Jim tried to discern if he did and he ended up staring at Oswald’s butt every damn time, and there wasn’t even a hint of a tail.

But how could that be? Could it be so small as to not be noticeable under the clothes? Jim could only see the outline of Oswald’s hips and buttocks, very nice outline, yes sir, but what about the tail? There was no tail. None at all.

Jim was driven so mad by this mystery that one day he couldn’t hold himself back and he actually slapped Oswald’s butt, as if he were possessed to. He didn’t think about it. He didn’t want that. Honest!

Oswald turned back and burned a hole in Jim with his eyes.

“What was  _ that, _ James?”

“Uh…” And he didn’t even manage to get a feel of that tail, and now he’s got to explain himself somehow. “I couldn’t help myself. Sorry about that.”

“Couldn’t help yourself? Since when have your hands been reaching towards my bottom?” Oswald came closer and looked at Jim in such a way that made him forget how to breathe. “I would very much like to know that.”

“I…” Jim gulped nervously. Sure, he could’ve denied everything, or maybe feign some kind of scientific interest… yeah right. As if the mystery of Oswald’s tail wasn’t second best to Oswald himself. As if Jim wasn’t dissatisfied with just looking.

“So, James?”

Explaining was somehow too difficult, so Jim didn’t find anything better to do than grab Oswald and kiss him. Such a perfect way to evade answering and also shut your opponent up, he definitely should use it more often...

It was totally logical for them to begin dating after that. Jim had to evade more questions anyway, and it was such a pleasant method too, and Oswald kept melting in his arms, making Jim wonder why he hadn’t tried kissing him before. That definitely would’ve solved a lot of problems before they arose.

The tail though - Jim couldn’t find it, even though he groped Oswald all over. He only understood why when they managed to have sex at last, proper sex, in a bedroom, with candlelight and stuff, not some hurried handjobs in an alley.

Jim undressed Oswald, all aflutter inside from this whole new and different intimacy between them, and he forgot about that tail completely, all until he slid his hands down Oswald’s back and lower and finding nothing there except smooth skin. Confused, Jim stroke him again, looked at his butt even. But there was nothing. Not even a hint of a tail. Not even a scar after a possible removal. As if Oswald never had a tail to begin with.

“I’ve never had a tail,” Oswald chuckled as if he’d read his thoughts. “So don’t try to find it.”

“But how?” Jim asked, perplexed.

“No idea, Jim. Who knows who it was that made Gothamites grow tails, but I was somehow left unaffected. And you know, I like it that way,” he said, leaning closer into Jim and stroking Jim’s tail. “My mood and affections remain a secret.”

Jim could only agree, after all, his own tail demonstrated his feelings towards Oswald all too clearly.

“After all, Jim, I can show you that you drive me mad in a lot of different ways…”

And Oswald did. And he kept showing Jim. And Jim’s tail was an active participant of that.

Because one other side-effect of growing tails was that it was a new erogenous zone, and quite sensitive at that.

Jim enjoyed his own tail much better after that.

 

 


End file.
